At this point I feel like an anonymous writer. I have never actually formally introduced myself to you, so don’t you think it’s about time? This is a long and at times hard read. It’s very real and raw, but that’s what I strive to be. Read at your own risk, and brace yourself. By the way, I often have a tendency to ramble. I am so sorry in advance.
Starting with the basics; My name is Oda Sagadalen Fauske. Tricky one, I know. I was born on October 20, and I am currently 22 years of age. When I was about 12 years old I adopted a middle name that flows nicely with my original name, but can also be used on its own for friends in other countries to make it easier. This name is Michelle, or my just my nickname Michie. So my full name is Oda Michelle Sagadalen Fauske, but here I’ll simply refer to myself as Michelle or Michie. I should add that I haven’t legally changed my middle name to Michelle, but I will the next time I’m renewing my passport. I’ve had this name for 10 years, so it’s real enough to me.
My interests are gaming (console and PC, I don’t discriminate), music (metal genre mostly), animals, politics, travelling, learning, writing, make-up, skincare, interior, baking, reading and probably many other things I typically forget when I NEED to remember. Relatable much?
I was born and raised in Norway, in a tiny village in a mountain valley. It’s not really even a village, it’s a bunch of scattered farms and houses. There’s a grocery store, a local store where you can buy agricultural equipment and tractors and that kinda stuff, a gas station, a church, and a sawmill. All scattered and not all in one place. There’s about 300 people living there in total I believe. It’s a typical farming community where everyone knows everyone, and we are all related ten times over. Secluded communities have had tendencies of inbreeding, which explains the multitude of horrible people you meet in these places. The rumor-mill never stops, so it’s an awful place to be yourself and not a clone that fits in their socially constructed box.
Yes, I was that person who just didn’t fit in. My opinions and individualism didn’t belong there, and I was made aware of this pretty early on. I didn’t dream of staying there forever, marrying one of the initially two guys in my class, and then work at the nursing home with all the other working wives. While this seemingly was the dream for many of them, it sounded like a nightmare to me. I was made for greater things and I needed to get out as fast as I possibly could. If any of you know the book series or even the movie “Beautiful Creatures”, I can relate a lot to Ethan Wate, but I was also very much a Lena Duchannes. The Ethan in me was the writer, the free spirit who grew up in a small community and longed for the day he could get out. The Lena in me was the misfit, the different girl that was never accepted. And had a nice share of false and unfair rumors going around about her. But I rose above it all. I knew the truth. I was strong, stubborn, independent, intelligent, kind, loyal, ambitious and talented, through and through.
Unfortunately, things didn’t turn out as I expected. When I was 17 started showing symptoms of… Well, something. It was in my gut, but we didn’t know what. I lost a lot of weight and spent too much of my time in the bathroom. At 18 I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease, and immediately started taking medication for it. And I got better. Gained some weight and felt so much better. Around the same time I moved hours and hours away from home. Finally. To the coastal city of Bergen. I was to attend a boarding school there and I was looking forward to my new adventure. I had some great times there. I suddenly fit in and somehow became one of the most popular people at school, despite struggling with social anxiety. I gained friends, I lost friends, and matured a lot in my year there. I also met my boyfriend there, who is still by my side four years later. Unfortunately, I was too sick to complete my year and failed several classes. I, as always, bit over more than I could chew, and became completely burnt out. Since then I’ve tried to focus on my health and learning how to live and cope with my disease. Just last year I got an ileostomy, which saved my life. Life is easier now that I don’t have to be in constant vicinity of a bathroom and can live my life instead.
This part is gonna be as taboo as it gets. Judgmental people or people struggling to read about mental illness should stop reading here, and all my later posts about mental illness and psychiatry (there will be one or two, but won’t ever be main focus) will include warnings so you can choose to avoid these posts. I will not be silenced, as this is an extremely important topic that I want to be open about in order to contribute to destroying the taboo once and for all. If you want to opt out of this, I understand and respect that. Stop reading here if you do.
I was a troubled child. I lost my mother to cancer at the age of 3, and after that struggled with behavioral issues people around me didn’t understand. I was depressed and had a lot of anxiety. These things “didn’t exist” in rural Norway. This has followed me ever since. There have been incidents in my childhood after this as well that have contributed to it, but I won’t go into detail as it may hurt or expose other people. I don’t wish to hurt them, even after what they did to me so I’ll leave it at that. My childhood was tough and anything but normal. As a mentally ill child that no one would treat, I felt alone and abnormal. I got some nasty labels that were untrue and unjustified. There was a lot of conflict with several people who simply didn’t understand me. I was otherwise a rather normal child with normal hobbies and interests, and one hell of a loyal friend to those I had. There was always good in me, and I was always kind, friendly and inclusive to people as best as I could. Unfortunately, many people never learned of these sides of me because they had already made up their minds. Moving to a different place was very healthy for me, and I have met people who see me for who I am, not for what I was unfairly labeled as because I was misunderstood.
Now I am an adult. I live in Bergen, together my boyfriend and our two cats: Hades and Cersei. Because of the things I went through in my childhood, my adult life has been anything but easy. I have been diagnosed with some very taboo and unpopular diagnoses, that have some very unfair reputations. I have the main diagnose called Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, also known as Borderline. My secondary diagnose is Avoidant, or Anxious Personality Disorder, which more or less is social anxiety on steroids. If you’re familiar with the popular reputation of BDP, I know what you’re thinking. That I’m probably some impulsive nutjob with no control. This is NOT TRUE. I will do everything I can to prove that BPD is a diagnose that can take many shapes and forms, and that no case is alike. My BPD consists of quick, exhausting mood swings (I can experience every mood in a minute), a persistent feeling of emptiness and hopelessness, extreme fatigue, compulsive thoughts, (which is how I end up biting over more than I can chew all the time) and I often feel like I’m disliked or hated without any indications of that being true. I feel emotions way stronger than other people. When I’m happy I’m practically euphoric. I love harder. I care more, and I’m extremely protective of my loved ones. But when I get tired, disappointed, sad or angry I hit rock bottom fast. Many people with BPD struggle with substance abuse, addiction and self harm. I have had an alcohol problem, but I managed to stop it before it went overboard. It luckily didn’t last long. I am free of self harm after being addicted to it since I was 11 years old. I can’t even remember the last time I did it. I am doing good! I am one stubborn fucker, and never give up without a fight.
Another super taboo thing that I’d like to mention is that I have been admitted to psychiatric facilities several times. This is good for me in periods where I’m so lost and so tired I don’t know what to do. And contrary to popular belief, those facilities are not anything like those you see in movies or shows. The rooms are kinda like hotel rooms, minus the tv. A comfortable bed, a desk, a sitting area and a private bathroom. My local facility is very new and modern and nice, and could easily be mistaken for a hotel if you only saw pictures. You even use key cards to open the door and put it in those slots to turn on the electricity. There are normal meals in a cafeteria where everyone sits together around a table and have friendly chats. There is a living room where you can comfortably curl up in a comfy chair or couch and watch tv or socialize with others. To me, it’s a great place to relax, get some much-needed rest, eat properly and take a break to focus on myself. I almost want to call it a mental-health spa, haha. It’s also a safe place where you have constant access to mental health professionals and doctors, and they will help you as best as they can so that you can function the way you desire again. Psychiatric facilities have to some degree gotten an unfair reputation. I know some countries have horrible practices and inhumane treatment methods. Even some facilities here in Norway have been exposed for these things. But open wards where you stay voluntarily are usually how I described. You can also go out almost as much as you please, as long as you notify the staff. I have to add, I have been to some closed facilities as well. Those are more challenging to stay in, and you’re often not allowed to go outside. But in one of them I was treated the best I’ve ever been, so I have positive experience as well as negative experience in another one. Sometimes you may temporarily be placed in a closed facility because the open ones are full. This is a problem that needs to be taken care of, as some people can become more sick of being placed in the wrong facility.
For any of you worrying my blog will be mental health issue heavy, don’t worry. It won’t be. I have not made a pity-me blog. That is far from my style. But I don’t intend to gloss over anything, and this is part of my life. There are way too many “I have a perfect life”-blogs, and I am appalled by them and the message they’re sending. There are also blogs that romanticize mental problems, and that’s just as bad. There will be none of that here. My mental health is in no way gonna be the main focus here, but I won’t lie about having better days than I do just because I’m scared of appearing “flawed”. I strive for openness to make all of this less taboo, and I want people who have issues of any kind to know that my blog will be a safe place. A place where you will be understood and respected. My e-mail, inbox and every social media will be open to anyone who’d like to share their story or need advice. I’m no therapist, but I’m a good listener and sometimes give great advice. I care about every single one of you, and if I can do anything to lighten anyone’s load please let me know.
This is a long post, and I am sorry if it’s too much. I ramble, just like I said.
Feel free to ask any questions! I am always very happy to answer.
Thanks for reading!
THE SAGA DYNASTY 